


Drarry Angst oneshots

by iAMthedrarryshipper



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Sad Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drarry, M/M, and more drarry!!!!, more drarry - Freeform, oneshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26439472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iAMthedrarryshipper/pseuds/iAMthedrarryshipper
Summary: Some of the saddest, most depressing things that I could write. I wrote this to vent some of that sadness off. It's how I function :/ As you can see, I have another book for le happy stuff because I like to keep them apart, this makes it easier for any and all of my readers to differentiate. There could be *bleh*....hinny in some of the oneshots (this killed me inside to write by the way because I am a hinny hater!)Now on to the good stuff!!Xxxxxx Ivana Aella Smith
Relationships: Drarry - Relationship, more drarry, side relationships from different characters
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. FOR HIM

A/N: This prompt idea is from a comic that I found online, and the oneshot is from Draco's POV. Enjoy! Xxxx Iva

FOR HIM - by iAMthedrarryshipper

The old wives and witches all say that on Hallow's Eve, the veil between the living and the dead is the thinnest, making it a time that spirits can come back to visit the living in corporeal forms. Many gather in places where their loved ones have passed on, or in graveyards where their loved ones are buried.

Draco Malfoy, sole heir to the Malfoy fortune, was no exception. Dressed impeccably as ever in a tailored black suit, in the graveyard of Godric's hollow, he tapped his foot, impatiently waiting for his passed fiance to materialise.

Two years ago, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley (and therefore Hermione as they had been soul bonded) had been killed by Voldemort in his last stand, who had miraculously made a reappearance using his final horcrux that no one knew about - the very ring that Harry had planned to propose to Draco with, the Potter family ring. Voldemort's soul burst out of the ring, possessing Ron's Auror partner Jack Wilson, using his body as a vessel for his power. He managed to kill Ron using the Avada Kedavra curse before Harry stopped him by smashing the ring into pieces with confringo. Unluckily for Harry, just as Voldemort was in death's throes, he fired a last curse at Harry: What seemed to be a modified version of Sectumsempra, Incisus Nunquamsana. As the counter curse was unknown, he bled to death in his hospital bed in the arms of his fiance Draco Malfoy, the latter who was growing exceedingly anxious. Had Harry finally moved on? Had he decided to stop visiting Draco? He couldn't bear the thought of it, and so he slumped against a gravestone, waiting.

Suddenly, white mist swirled, and the ghostly form of Harry James Potter appeared, shrouded in a slight mist. Draco's breath caught in his throat as he stared at his fiance for the first time in the whole year. He was as beautiful as he remembered, dark, messy raven hair falling around his face, emerald eyes glinting playfully, and famous lightning scar on his forehead. He smiled brightly and ran into Draco's arms.

"Dray! I missed you!" 

His skin was colder than it had been in life, but Draco didn't care. He held his fiance tightly as tears streamed down his face.

"I-I missed you too..Harry."

Harry concernedly pulled back and pecked him on the lips.

"What's wrong Dray?"

A watery smile appeared on Draco's face, as he answered the question.

"Just that life isn't worth living without you in it. I plan to die sometime soon, to join you so that we can be united in death. It shoudl've been me who died at Voldemort's hands, you shouldn't have died. You have so many people who love and miss you, come back. I've told you repeatedly, let me use the sacrifical spell to switch our souls."

His fiance's eyes widened in horror, pulling him close.

"Don't you even think about that Draco Lucius Malfoy! I love you too much to let you go just like that! We're not sacrificing your soul for mine, you have too much to live for. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for me. I-I love you."

Draco smirked, a shadow of the past.

"I know, you self sacrificing git, I know. I...I love you too."

Pulling Harry in close, they both lapsed into a companionable silence. Harry laid his head on Draco's shoulder as Draco stroked his hair and cast little warming charms that left streams of light behind, occasionally pecking him on the lips.

Too soon, morning came. Hermione and Ron's spirits appeared in front of them to bring Harry back. 

"Draco?"

"We have to go."

Draco's eyes filled with tears as he begged. 

"Just let me have him a moment longer. Please."

Eventually, though, the moment passed, and Harry was forced to return, but not before giving him a long kiss, and whispering in his ear:

"Remember Draco, I love you...always"

And then he faded into thin air. 

Draco was left alone, standing in the graveyard, the morning sun rising slowly. He whispered into thin air the words he was going to say:

"Scarhead...I love you too."

And so, Draco thought, taking the pills out and throwing them on the ground, he wouldn't do it just yet. For Harry.


	2. DON'T TOUCH HIM!

A/N So I was feeling gloomy today and was browsing on the internet, then I found this...and the rest is history! Inspired by picture above, deathly hallows rewrite about what would have happened if Draco and Harry were secretly dating....with a TWIST! From Draco's PoV (yet again!) 

The battlefield was quiet. The mist-covered castle ruins that used to be Hogwarts, his home loomed over everyone, shadowing him in a sense of foreboding. Draco Malfoy gripped his hawthorn wand a bit tighter, warily looking around at the black-cloaked death eaters that surrounded him, pushing him forward, following the Dark Lord as they walked across a bridge walkway. He walked to his father, pushing through quite a few people to get to him.

"What's happening, Father?"

His father didn't reply. His lustrous, silky blond hair was straggly and tangled, a 5 o'clock shadow sat on his normally smooth face, and when he turned, his eyes glinted with something that made him look a hundred years older. He kept walking. Draco turned away and decided to observe for himself.

The Dark Lord strode to the center of the Hogwarts courtyard, black robes billowing behind him, his snake-like features twisted into a macabre grin. Nagini slithered by his side, tasting the still air with her forked tongue, hissing softly. Hagrid - the half giant gamekeeper - was carrying something in his hands, his chest racked with heaving sobs, his great head bowed. From the other side of the courtyard approached the light side. Their faces betrayed the same foreboding that Draco personally though everyone felt. He shivered, suddenly feeling the biting cold of the weather.

The Weaselette - or at least Draco thought that was her - staggered to the front. Her voice trembled as she asked the question that Draco was bursting to know.

Who is that Hagrid's carrying? Neville...who is it?

Voldemort's cold, high, frighteningly gleeful voice rang through the courtyard, through the cold, still air, startling a couple of crows who gave a high pitched screeching sound before flying away. 

"Harry Potter....IS DEAD!"

And with those few words, Draco's blood ran cold. His heart shattered into a million pieces as he saw the cold, dead body of his boyfriend carried in the half-giant's arms. His knees nearly buckled as he fought to stay upright, as the people - no, monsters around him laughed gleefully with Voldemort, cackling with a sadistic joy. 

"When this is over, I'm going to ask you to finally be my fiancé." Well, that self-sacrificing git never got the chance to do that, didn't he?

Voldemort's voice rang through the courtyard once more, this time softly and even more dangerous than before.

"Harry Potter is dead. From this day forth....you put your faith, in me."

His grotesque face split open into a gruesome grin that made him look even more menacing.

"And now is the time to declare yourself! Come forward and join us...or die. Now....who's ever wanted to see what torturing the Chosen One would look like if he were dead...?"

As the monsters around him jeered their approval, none as loud as his father himself, Draco had had enough. He stepped forward.

The dark lord smiled unnervingly at him, red eyes glinting with malice.

"Ah Draco, come to torture Harry Potter? Your childhood rival?"

Draco shook his head. 

"No."

Voldemort paused. A malicious, grotesque grin stretched across his face as Mother shouted a loud "No! Draco no!". When he spoke again, it was in that same dangerously soft voice that he'd used only a minute ago. 

"What do you mean no?"

Draco smirked, a shadow of the past. His eyes only reflected the determination of a man with nothing to lose. Voldemort stepped back, fear in his ruby-red eyes for the first time.

"I mean no. You can break my soul, take my shitty ass life away, beat me, hurt me, kill me.....but for the love of Merlin..DON'T TOUCH MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND!"

Everyone in the courtyard gasped. Lucius Malfoy stepped up. He asked Draco in a rough, cracked voice.

"Why do you defend him so, Draco? Come back to our side. You'll be safe there."

Draco replied, a flicker of sadness coming through his mask. His voice, although soft, seemed to pierce through the hush that everyone was shocked into after hearing the heartless Malfoy heir say those words.

"Because I have nothing to lose. Because now I would be better off dead. Because a part of me died with him. Because he was everything to me. Because...I love him." He drew his wand and shouted "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A majestic silvery blue stag leapt out of his wand as Harry Potter, the boy who lived, rolled out of Hagrid's arms, landing on the floor. Voldemort saw this, and his face contorted with rage. He pulled out his wand before Harry had a chance to draw his. 

"AVADA KEDAVRA !"

For Draco, the bolt of green light streaked towards his boyfriend in slow motion. All he could hear was the rushing wind and his own shout of "NO!" as he dove towards the beam of light, with the words on his lips seconds before the bolt hit:

"I love you."

Then everything faded into darkness. He never heard Harry's anguished shout of "DRACO!", never heard the pure rage in his voice as he shouted "THAT WAS MY BOYFRIEND AND YOU KILLED HIM! I WAS GOING TO ASK HIM TO MARRY ME! I'LL KILL YOU YOU BITCH!", never saw the new era where people could live without the threat of Voldemort over their heads.

Draco Malfoy was hailed a hero and buried in the graveyard of Godric's Hollow, alongside Lily and James Potter. They say, a half of Harry Potter died with him, leaving a shell of the person he was. To this day, he still visits the grave, kneeling down and speaking to the body buried underneath the dirt just to see if he would miraculously spring out of the ground, like he did that fateful day.


	3. THE STAGES OF GRIEF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my grandmother, who lost the fight to depression and cancer.

A/N Hi! I am back with an idea for a oneshot, majority of the credit for this chapter goes to whichever amazing and talented artist drew the above picture - it's a masterpiece! Emotionally draining to write this 😅 so sorry for the long wait.. ALSO disclaimer, some content is derived from the book - as in same sentences. AU Harry and Draco are dating, and instead of Sirius Black at the department of mysteries, it's Draco....

DENIAL 

Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the supposed vanquisher of Voldemort could only watch in horror as his boyfriend Draco Malfoy was knocked backwards into the veil of death, mouthing "I love you" as he took the blast meant for him. He screamed, a sound of pure agony. Rushing towards the veil, he was held back by his friends Ron and Hermione.

"Let me get him! Save him, let me go! Please!"

Hermione looked at him, sadness entrapped in her deep, brown eyes.

"He's gone, Harry. He's actually gone this time."

Ron chimed in,

"Yeah mate, it's too late, you're only going to kill yourself."

Tugging against the arms that held him back, silent tears running down his face throughout the battle with Voldemort, throughout the apparition back to Hogwarts, he cursed himself for even believing Hermione. Draco couldn't be gone! His beautiful, amazing boyfriend couldn't be gone! It was just too surreal, this was only a dream, he would wake up shivering in Draco's arms, and he would be there to warm him, to say that he loved him, to kiss him. His other half couldn't be gone, especially after he proposed to him only a week ago! He-he simply couldn't just be gone like that! 

ANGER 

The tears continued to run down Harry's face as he stood in Dumbledore's office, his hands balled up into fists as he vigorously rubbed at the stupid tears on his face that wouldn't stop flowing, red-hot emotions welling up inside of him. No, it wasn't fake, this was happening, it was real, Draco was dead, he was gone, Harry would never be able to touch him one more time. 

Dumbledore stepped forward, calm, cool collected expression on his face. Suddenly Harry just had this-this URGE to rip him apart, shake him, hurt him, break him like Draco's death had hurt him, to make him feel a tiny FRACTION of the pain that he himself was experiencing. He lost not a friend, but the most important thing in his life - Draco, who he was going to marry after all this was over! Dumbledore took another step forward to comfort him.

"Harry, suffering like this proves that you are still a man! This proves that you are still human, grief and pain is part of being human -"

Harry's eyes were full of pain, sorrow and anger all at once. He unleashed his magic in all his fury as he yelled - no, roared words which were embedded with his emotion. 

"THEN - I - DON'T - WANT - TO - BE - HUMAN!" His magic lashed out once more, a swirling storm surrounding him that lifted up papers, scattering them all over the office, making the paintings shake. Angry tears dripped down his cheeks, his face set in a feral snarl. The somewhat offended portrait of Armando Dippet shook his head, letting out an unremorseful "Really!".

"I - DON'T - CARE!" Harry yelled at them, green eyes glowing with a crazed gleam. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, LET ME JOIN DRACO, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!"

If Dumbledore was fazed by Harry's words, he didn't show it. He kept his face calm and impassive, as it was since the start, and reached a hand out to him, all the while speaking.

"You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."

The crazed gleam was still present in Harry's eyes as he went wild in his anger, in his grief, in his fury, screaming so loudly he thought his throat might tear. The wind whipped even stronger around him, snuffing the fireplace out and tearing books from the shelves.

"I - DON'T!" he screamed once more. "I - I - DON'T!"

Dumbledore just stood there, a wandless Protego protecting him from the debris that was now swirling in the wind around Harry.

"You do care. Nothing you say will truly deny Draco's death, Harry. You do care."

The words were accurate and hit home. Harry immediately collapsed, the weight of events and his grief and anger bearing upon him.

The world went black.

BARGAINING

The months passed, but Harry's pain over his fiancé's demise never lessened. Giving fake smiles and a "I'm OK" to anyone who asked how he was coping, he read all there was about the veil, and was constantly in the library trying to find loopholes to get his Draco back, burying his sorrows by reading all there was on the veil and ways to make spirits come back. One day, he approached Nearly Headless Nick, smiling a genuine smile that hadn't been seen on the lad's face since before Draco died. 

"People can come back, right? As ghosts. They don't have to disappear completely, right?"

Nearly Headless Nick sighed, knowing what he wanted.

"....He won't come back."

Harry's spirits were slowly sinking, but he held on to the last shred of hope he had with all his might, because, it wasn't possible, no, Draco would come back! No, he couldn't be gone, no!

"Who? Who - who won't come back?"

"Draco Malfoy."

And with that, Harry's face crumbled, giving way to the broken boy who he was inside. Lowering his head, reality finally crashed down, the fact that no, Draco was NEVER coming back. Never again would Harry be able to touch him, talk to him, kiss him, hug him. He ran back to his room, a trail of silvery tears marking his way.

DEPRESSION 

The scarlet blood slowly dripped its way down Harry's arm - or at least the shell of Harry. Deathly thin, with a sickly pale pallor to his skin that contrasted with his bloodshot pupils, white scars from where he cut, and sticky, scarlet blood dripping down his skin, he looked a sight. In the private room Dumbledore gave him, empty firewhisky bottles littered the floor. He put his blood stained razor into a small, metal jar, slumping onto the bed, staring aimlessly and wishing, wishing endlessly that Draco would come down and comfort him like he always did when Harry was down. He slumped down on his bed, feeling empty and alone inside, curling around himself like he always did now to mimic the feel of Draco hugging him as his sickly body shook with sobs. 

And so the Boy-who-lived isolated himself from his friends, his teachers, the world. For the first time in his life, Harry Potter was truly broken. He picked up a sharp, serrated knife and raised it to his heart.

"I'm sorry. I can't save you all. "

And with a swift, quick motion, the knife was jabbed into his chest, the blood flowed out, and the boy who loved was gone. Easier than falling asleep, he died with a smile on his lips.

On the 29th of July, Harry Potter was reunited with his soulmate Draco Malfoy, and he was, at long last, happy.


	4. I - I'm SORRY!

Harry is depressed over the deaths in the war and commits suicide....Draco never got to tell him how he felt.... A/N sorry for this shitty one shot, they aren't usually that short, but I was feeling sad and had to vent some of it after going to a funeral....that's what makes me feel better :)

Harry Potter's funeral was a short, simple one, with only his friends and family. Too busy grieving over the death of Harry Potter, no one noticed the black-clad figure with platinum blond hair, silver tracks making their way down his face. The ceremony concluded, with his body being lowered down into a hole in the ground. Everyone left, and snow began to softly fall on the grave.

And from behind a tree, Draco Malfoy himself stepped out, tears streaked with tears, running to the boy-who-lived's grave, sinking to his knees and letting out an animalistic cry of despair.

"I-I'm SORRY! I'M SORRY FOR EVERYTHING I'VE DONE TO YOU! J-just bring come BACK! YOU HAVE to live! J-just....come back...come back...Po-Harry...come back..."

But he was never coming back, and Draco knew that, but he had to try, he had to...as he never had the courage in life, not like Ginny Weasley did....he was no Gryffindor, too cowardly, too scared... Draco took a deep breath.

"I don't know how to say this, Potter, but...oh fuck it, I LOVE YOU OK!? I LOVE YOU! WHY DID YOU LEAVE? WHY?? After all, it was always you....you prat."

He took his wand out, casting Expecto Patronum and watching sadly as a silvery-blue stag ran circles around him before disappearing into thin air. Standing in front of the grave yard, he waited for a single sign that Harry heard him, but the snow kept falling softly, and nothing changed, not a single thing, he was still dead.

Draco was sobbing in the graveyard, ugly, fat tears running down his face and hugging Harry's gravestone, but for once in his life, Draco could care less about how he looked, because Harry was dead, he was gone, and Draco would never get to tell him how he felt...

That night, a decision was made....by a boy who never wanted to be chosen, to be marked. Who the world wouldn't miss. He left behind only a letter, a small white piece of fine parchment paper, with the word "Sorry" written in his elegant, looping scrawl.

The morning after, Draco Malfoy was no-where to be seen, or to be found. He was, after all just a Death eater's boy. And life carried on around him, just as it did after Harry passed.


	5. Godric's Hollow

A/N Set after the war. Draco and Harry visit Godric's Hollow to see Harry's parents graves. This is an angst/fluff blend, with your share of angst and fluff!

It was a cool, crisp clear winter morning when two men Apparated onto Church Lane. One had tanned skin, messy raven hair, a faded lightning bolt scar on his forehead and circular glasses while the other was slightly taller and had paler skin with white-blond platinum hair. 

The first playfully shoved the second, who was shivering in his finely tailored black suit.

"HA! I told you so, Draco, you should've worn a beanie and a thicker cloak! And don't you dare say you don't have those things, I just KNOW you hid them somewhere!"

The second man - Draco, shoved the first, glowering.

"You can't expect me to wear that MONSTROSITY Potter! It's - it's the epitome of a Gryffindork, Scarhead!"

Harry leaned forward, leering at Draco.

"Mhmmm, the Gryffindork who you married, Malfoy...or should I say Potter? Draco blushed and shoved him again.

"Potter!"

"Which one?"

"Arghhh! Just - shut up Potter!"

"As I said - which on-"

They had arrived at Godric's Hollow, and the graveyard with its ruined gravestones swirled with mist. A tear slipped down Harry's face as he and Draco walked stood at the gates of the graveyard, the first time since the war. As he glimpsed his parent's gravestones through the thick metal bars, the world just seemed to fall apart. Harry let out a choked sob and sank to his knees, burying his head in between his knees. Draco followed him, clasping his hand and offering whispers to comfort him.

His heart broke seeing his normally strong and determined husband wracked with sobs, the first flakes of snow falling on from the sky, coating the ground in a thick, white carpet. Sighing, he made Harry look at him.

"Draco, they're dead....because of me....."

Draco smiled tenderly at him, grasping his hands.

"Listen, I'm not saying it's going to be okay, visiting them... but I'm here for you. I - I'll always be here for you, because I love you."

And so they walked into the mist covered graveyard together and sat right there, in front of James and Lily Potter's gravestone, amidst the softly falling snow, arms wrapped around each other, grieving as one.

HI GUYS!!! (I'm not dead!) :) So I'm back with another update after a movie marathon!!!! Pls give me feedback on whether or not this was OK! Thank yoUUUUU! :))


	6. Shards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shards (of a broken mirror or of a broken heart?)   
> This chapter is based on the "Mirror of Erised" head cannon by gewtmas - I would post the picture too but I am new here and have no idea how to :( But kudos to gewtmas!! Amazing head cannon!!   
> P.S If you really want to see the head cannon, head over to my Wattpad account under the same name (iAMthedrarryshipper)

Shards - of a mirror or of a broken heart?

Draco stood amongst the mist-shrouded ruins of Hogwarts, levitating bricks with his old hawthorn wand up to the wizard above, who deftly caught the brick, cementing it into place. 

The battle of Hogwarts had left the castle looking worse for wear, and Draco'd decided to help with the rebuilding. After all, he thought, yanking up the sleeve of his linen shirt and staring at the faded dark mark marred with white scars from a metal blade, he'd caused it. Vanishing some pebbles, something caught his eye - a shard of something glittering, glinting in the fading sunlight. He limped over, leaning heavily to his right side as he made his way across the rock-strewn Great Hall. 

It was a mirror. A single, huge, sharp-edged shard of mirror. But when he looked into its depths...he saw him. Potter, with his crooked smile, bright emerald eyes and the messy black hair. Potter, who hated him, but with his bloody saviour complex saved him from the Fiendfyre. And Draco hated him...right? But then why was he next to Potter in the mirror?

One thing was clear - this was no ordinary mirror. He looked to the left, then the right, and when no one noticed him, he shrunk down the jagged, sharp-edged mirror and pocketed it. 

That night, when he'd went back to the rickety, old cottage he was staying in - for Malfoy Manor was seized by the Ministry, his father was in Azkaban and his mother in exile - he took out the piece of broken mirror and restored it to its original size. He once more saw mirror-Potter and him in it, and this time they were holding hands, Draco's dark mark visibly gone, laughing and joking. Mirror-Potter mussed mirror-Draco's hair up, chuckling and he watched as his mirror self glared daggers before restyling his hair and laughing with Potter. Draco couldn't help but chuckle a little at Mirror-Potter and his mirror self's actions, before he flopped on the rusty bed, springs moaning and protesting, pulled the thin, hole-filled blanket over his head and went to sleep. 

That night, his dreams were filled with Potter. 

The very next day, he received a summons from Hogwarts inviting him back to school. Dressed in a black suit from last year, making sure to cover the Dark Mark, he washed up in the bathroom of the tiny cottage and apparated into Hogsmeade. 

He was anticipating the stares and the glares of the people as he, a former Death Eater, shuffled through the streets of Hogsmeade. Keeping his head ducked down, he quickly shuffled into Flourish and Blotts, all his past confidence gone. Picking up his book order, he turned to apparate out of there, when he saw Potter, laughing and joking and smiling with his friends. When the Weaslette kissed him and he kissed back passionately, Draco couldn't take it all of a sudden and apparated away, landing on his rickety bed and sobbing face down. 

He didn't like Potter...no, he couldn't like Potter. He was the Golden Boy and Draco was a Death Eater. There was no way in a thousand bloody years that he would like Draco, whose hair was an unappealing blond, whose skin was pasty white, who had dead grey eyes. No way.

Hogwarts begin, and Draco still checked his mirror every night, doing all his homework ahead of time and always leaving space to check his mirror. Sometimes, he saw his mother and father as well, beaming proudly and openly like they did when he was just a little child with his brother, when the Malfoy's hearts had not yet hardened, when Adrian wasn't gone. 

Adrian - he saw him too, his blond-haired, blue-eyed brother who smiled at mirror-Draco, taking his hands and placing them on his shoulders as he hoisted Draco up like they did when they were just children, giving him a piggy-back ride. But mostly, he saw Harry, emerald green eyes sparkling with life, mussed raven hair and tanned skin glowing as he hugged and held hands with Draco. 

But then there came the night where he checked the mirror and saw the kiss, as Mirror Harry leaned towards Mirror Draco and captured his lips in a sweet, soft but passionate kiss, cupping the side of his face as the other curled long, thin aristocratic fingers into messy raven hair. 

That night was the night Draco finally admitted his crush on the golden boy. 

The time wore on, and he checked the mirror every night, finding himself with Harry doing all the things that a couple did, like what Lucius used to do to Narcissa before Adrian was gone, waking up in bed every day together, innocent little kisses, making breakfast for each other...

And all throughout this time, real-life Harry shunned him, ignored him, probably hated him.

Then that faithful day, Draco finally broke. He walked to the Owlery to find his owl, and he confessed what he'd saw in his shard of mirror, confessed his feelings, poured his heart and soul out into his letter, mailed it off with the air of a man who had nothing to lose and everything to gain. All too soon, he received a letter back, signed with his name, saying that he was a sick fucker for making a joke like this, and that to tell Malfoy that he hated him. 

That night, watching mirror Draco and mirror Harry cuddle in bed and exchange sweet little phrases and little kisses, he finally broke. Hot tears ran down his cheeks as he convulsed and shuddered, curling up against himself. He felt like he was the only one in the world, an insignificant speck of dust that no one loved. A gate seemed to break, and suddenly pure sorrow flooded his heart. He was lost in the darkness of the sorrow, and maybe he was dying, or almost dead. Because he loved Harry so much he couldn't breathe, and Harry - Harry hated him. But not as much as Draco hated himself for not being good enough for Harry. 

The very next morning, he never got up to check the mirror, he never got up at all. For the shard of mirror that had once been his greatest friend was now embedded deep inside his chest, piercing through his heart. A single blood-splattered note was left on his bedside table, a last note. "I'll never be good enough, and that's OK. I love you enough to let you go forever."

They didn't find the note and the body until about a week or so later. No one really kept track, after all, who cared?


End file.
